Hope in the Stars

How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love New Star Wars Films

If you traveled back in time to 2012, I bet a Hollywood producer would have found the notion of an unprofitable Han Solo movie harder to believe than the Donald Trump presidency.

Star Wars has been, if not a Trojan gift, perhaps the quintessential good problem–it’s given Disney a great return on its investment but also quite a few headaches.

Case in point: a teaser trailer released by LucasFilm for the upcoming “Star Wars IX: Rise of Skywalker” produced the expected excited cheers and gasps from the faithful. And yet Disney CEO Bob Iger also recently hinted that the franchise will take a bit of a “hiatus,” following the conclusion of this latest trilogy, which fans weren’t quite sure whether to take as a warning or a desperately needed promise. This is a franchise which is blatantly violating the golden rule of show biz, to always leave ’em wanting more–forget wanting more, it’s refusing to leave at all.

I hated the idea of new Star Wars movies when Disney bought the franchise for $4 billion in 2012, and I still hated it in 2015. And as of last year, I saw no reason to think I was wrong. Seven years ago I said it would be impossible to reinvent something that was about reinvention and damn if I don’t feel like I was right.

With the initial burst of goodwill from the franchise’s return now dissipated, and if one can excise the turbulent culture wars it seems to attract, what you’re left with is movies that are just good enough. They’re well-made, thoughtful, often exhilarating, sometimes surprising, but never transcendent. Despite all the noise, they’re not really worth getting worked up about either way, and that’s a bit of a problem when your movie-goers are already bringing their own passion by the bushload to the theater.

These movies just feel off, and I don’t think it’s really the movies’ fault. Fans debate what went wrong, which filmmakers screwed up, when it fell off the path, or why they’re unfairly criticized. They miss the point–it’s not due to anything about craft, but that these movies can’t seem to find a reason to exist, except that they desperately need to.

The logical flow of the war between the light and the dark was thrown off by the need to give the series a jump start in 2015. Even as Admiral Holdo gives a clear-eyed speech on the meaning of the Rebellion that ought to be inspiring, I can’t help but feel that this conflict is contrived. It’s been willed into existence by the screenwriters, instead of popping onto the screen from the cosmos like it did in 1977. Because, of course, it had to be contrived–Disney had 4 billion reasons why “The Force Awakens” and “The Last Jedi” had to summon the exact same emotional experience as the originals, even when the natural logic of the franchise demanded that it move on.

So I’ve got every reason to shake my fist at the desecration of my beloved franchise–but I won’t. Because I actually find something interesting and–dare I say it?–hopeful about this juncture point. Maybe Star Wars will find the magic again, despite itself.

Now that we’re nearing Episode IX–which I’m sure will be just fine–Star Wars will obey some mystical law of threes and avoid belaboring us with Episodes X, XI and XII. The story of the Empire’s repeated rise and fall spin cycle is finally done, and the studio is also souring on films that supply backstories to the beloved original characters and plotlines. Those turned out to be superfluous and awkward–no more so than when Rogue One introduced an interesting new cast of characters before executing each and everyone, or when the staggeringly unnecessary Han Solo backstory failed to make Disney a blessed penny. And the mind boggles at why we’d possibly need a Boba Fett movie.

Disney’s now trying to convince us that what was once known as the Star Wars saga–Episodes 1 through 9–is simply the Skywalker Saga. Not the tale of a galaxy, as I always thought, but a story of one dynasty within it, distinct from a new amorphous notion of Star Wars. A Star Wars that will continuously expand and evolve with an endless supply of new media, until people are finally tired of it or the sun goes dark, whichever is first.

There’s an unnamed and sparsely described trilogy from “The Last Jedi” director Rian Johnson and another one from the co-creators of Game of Thrones. And then there’s Disney’s streaming show “The Mandalorian,” whatever that is. Johnson’s trilogy will introduce “new characters from a corner of the galaxy that Star Wars lore has never before explored,” according to the announcement, the first time the franchise has ever officially announced such a stark change in direction.It’s an entirely commerce-driven direction. It’s not good enough for movies to simply be movies anymore, or trilogies or even a series of never-ending sequels like Star Trek or Friday the 13th. Now movies are the mere building blocks of multimedia universes–hosts of sequels, crossovers and spinoffs creating a network guaranteeing not only an infinite ubiquity of products but a tactile, immersive reality for its fans, a place for them to live and interact as it grasps for as much of their identity and imagination as it can. Just ask our president: the prime currency of our age isn’t money or information, but attention.

Of course, this new Star Wars can’t just be about fighting and refighting the same war over and over again. It has to expand, and in doing so it will change the basic idea of what Star Wars is. It was originally a sort of epic poem that just existed for the telling of it, riffing off ancient mythology and our B-grade pop culture. But it’s growing into something else now, and neither its creators or producers–or fans–seem to know exactly what.

That epic poem nature is the biggest reason why Star Wars, to me at least, seemed to chafe at cinematic universification. It’s a story about storytelling.

But Star Wars, after all, helped invent this concept of commercialized universes in the first place. George Lucas, attending Star Trek conventions while he slowly developed his sci-fi opus, saw the potential for captivating his fans with continuously expanding parallel works and a promoting a kind of lifestyle. He started working on Star Wars novels even before the original Star Wars was done. Books like “Heir to the Empire,” which topped the New York Times bestseller list, kept the pulse of Star Wars beating during its lean years and are a big part of why it felt like a juggernaut when the movies returned in 1999, and again in 2015.

I always hated the idea that one needs to be well-read in those works to really get or appreciate Star Wars. Those movies belong just as much to the casual fan as they do to the devotee who knows what a Lugubraa is, and they’re a complete and deep work on their own.

But the expanded universe is undeniably part of Star Wars, even after the books were unceremoniously uncanonized to make way for The Force Awakens. And the concept is about to become a bigger part.

As a new band of space adventurers blast off to the vast expanses of the galaxy in the desperate search for a reason to exist, I have every reason to be exhausted with this.

But what I feel in my gut when I think of it isn’t annoyance but intrigue. Just what will they find? What will Rian Johnson come up with?

This is what the seventh Star Wars movie ought to have been–a more wide-open story imagining what post-year wars in the Republic would have really been like, as the iron foundation of the Empire is replaced with–what? But no matter how much the plot demanded it, for Disney it’s a non-starter–to have started the new chapter this way would have felt anticlimactic to fans and would have likely been suicidal for a studio looking to restart its billion-dollar franchise.

But now that these movies are free from the oppressive burdens of being the Star Wars movies, and can just be Star Wars movies, they can flow more naturally towards compelling storylines. Without a raison d’etre declared by studio fiat, they just might find a more compelling purpose. As does any creator beginning a new work.

One can hope.

I’d still prefer they just turned the damned Star Wars spigot off, but so long as that’s impossible I don’t mind it that the market has dictated it spill onto a wide-open canvas.

It’s been seven years since “The Avengers” hoisted the universe concept into the center of Hollywood, and movie producers have found navigating cinematic universes about as treacherous as a spaceman would find traversing the real ones.

In fact, these days it seems like the whole universe concept is at a juncture point. The MCU is approaching some kind of climax with its ominously titled “Endgame,” and no one’s quite sure what will be coming next. DC Comic’s attempt to force out something similar crashed and burned with the Snyderverse, but they’ve managed to be surprisingly successful with single-hero epics and now are grasping for whatever hooks they can to keep it alive.

Maybe my favorite cinematic universe now is Fox’s X-Men franchise, recently bequeathed to Disney and likely on its last legs. With the centerpiece saga of Charles Xavier’s mutant students all but finished, it lives on by embracing not just a diverse set of characters but of genres as well, with an existential Western, postmodern satire, and–if “New Mutants” ever gets released—horror.

The common theme with all of these is that Feige’s model–films closely connected through tone and plot–is giving way, as the universes themselves expand and diversify to survive. Even Marvel’s universe is beginning to diversify. Its most interesting recent hit, “Black Panther,” had a distinct look and feel–after all, you don’t hire Ryan Coogler for monotony. And the damn thing is, without the MCU it likely never would have been made.

DC’s cinematic universe is today more properly described as a multiverse, as we await “Joker,” which appears to have less in common with any Batman or Superman movie as it does with a Martin Scorsese flick. Slate’s Jordan Weissmann noted that with this fifth cinematic Joker (seven if you count animated), he’d become a recurring mad character like Lear for actors to stretch their muscles.

Universes are beginning to feel as broad as Shakespeare, or maybe even broader–approaching the Platonic ideal of a fictional universe encompassing all possible characters, locations and plotlines, identical to our own but united through a single package of copyrights.

Young filmmakers used to want to make the Great American Film, then they wanted to make the Great American Blockbuster, and now they want to land the Great American Franchise. That requires a whole new creative process–figuring out how to fit the range of dramatic possibilities into a commonly accepted framework. You can like that or not, but at least we can appreciate its benefits. “Wrath of Khan” director Nicholas Meyer–who has never considered himself a Trekkie–once mused that he likely did better work within the franchise limitations than he would have done if someone gave him free rein to make whatever he wanted. The friction between his sensibilities and Trek’s old guard is what created Khan’s magic sparks.

Expanded fictional universes weren’t new even when J.R.R. Tolkien and William Faulkner used them. But there’s something special about unplanned, uncoordinated universes, carved out not by one artist’s imagination but by Darwinian audience demands. Batman, Gotham and the DC Universe could never have been conceived by one person or even a team–it could only be produced by a relentless stream of monthly publications. Neither could Star Trek’s 23rd century. Characters, locations, and plotlines sank or swam on the near-instant feedback from readers, and the accumulation created a kind of inverted relief map of American culture, telling us quite a bit about our collective psyche.

Today, it’s the closest equivalent to mythology.

There’s a lot to ponder about how we let the intellectual property laws define so much of what we think, see and feel. But so long as it is what it is, we might as well celebrate watching some of the best filmmakers of our age try to navigate it.

There used to be something subversive about liking Star Wars–its rebellious spirit of plunder and celebration of B cinema, and the way a generation used it to signal their defiance of growing up. If that sense is still there, it’s lost on me.

But maybe in that vast expanse of planets, Rian Johnson will find some subversion again.

18 Responses

My multi-generational reaction: I was in the sweet zone for the original Star Wars: male, SF nerd, early teen. I bit willingly enough, though I was always more of a Trek guy. I eagerly awaited the prequels. I even took the day off work for the opening day of Episode I. That proved ill-considered. I saw all three in the theater, but frankly it was something of a slog, done more out of a sense of obligation to my youthful self than because I enjoyed them. The most recent round? I’ll take my kid if she wants to see it. Otherwise I will catch it on Netflix later. Or not. I never got more than three minutes into Solo, because I can’t work myself up to caring.

Daughters’ generation: My older daughter (fifth grade) sort of likes them, but the idea of this being an all-consuming obsessions is just absurd. My younger daughter (third grade) isn’t interested at all. My impression is that this pattern is pretty widespread in the elementary school set: Star Wars is part of the cultural conversation, but not an especially big part. Hunger Games is much bigger, at least among the girls. Harry Potter is also part of the conversation, but not nearly as big as it was twenty years ago. The real elephant in the room is an amorphous collection of YouTubers and games, especially Pokemon and Minecraft.

I will likely treat Ep. IX the same as the earlier ones: it is up to my daughter whether I see it in the theater, but I will probably get around to it eventually, one way or another. If those Rian Johnson films ever happen, I might actively seek them out. Ep. VIII was by far the most interesting of the new batch, Rogue One being the only other with even shouting distance.Report

I think the target demographic for the new Star Wars movies and side stories are women and people of color in their teens and twenties. Older than your daughters but not typical science fiction demographics.Report

Seconded. What a character to develop, and for those who constantly want a more “woke” narrative in Star Wars it wouldn’t even be contrived as Timothy Zahn built that into the core of the Thrawn character – an outsider alien (he was frikkin blue) who had to overcome much discrimination and obsticals to become the big bad in the universe. He was ruthless and wicked but had logic to it and a method. Most importantly, his view on the Jedi and force was purely a practical one, and the how he sought out his own dark lord not for the mysticism of it but because the Sith’s use of the dark side apparently improved efficiency and performance of the imperial fleet. It’s all great stuff that could have held what was good and pressed into new areas. I still think at some point someone will, beyond the little bit the animated series has down with the character. It’s just too good to lay unused.Report

I appreciate the sentiment, even though I haven’t read them. But I think it probably was never in the cards. Disney had so much invested in this, they really had to hit a precise note with the new sequel. And basing it on a book that’s already out there would deflate it a lot–everyone would go out and read it to know what happens, there wouldn’t be as much suspense going into the theater.

Maybe Thrawn trilogy would still have been better, but I can understand why they’d decide they couldn’t.Report

I liked the prequels and I like the new films. The Force Awakens was a bit unoriginal but I liked it for the cast and for the excitement. The Last Jedi had more depth and was hinting at the directions the films *should* be going, the way they have been going since the prequel trilogy: the idea that the Jedi were too rigid, too afraid of the dark side; that the balance must be found in a kind of “gray” Jedi able to use the dark side but not be dominated it (as Luke showed in ROTJ). I don’t know if Abrams has the guts to bring it to the correct conclusion but we’ll see. I suspect IX will be a crowd-pleaser but not finish the cycle the way it should be finished.

Rogue One was the best of the new movies, very different from what had come before. Solo was fine for what it was. Unnecessary and would have been way better if they’d cut out of the first quarter of the movie and just started with the train heist.Report

This is a key sentence. In one sense, we don’t need any back stories. The only one who needs any of these movies is the studio. The question is whether there is a back story tale worthy of a movie. I didn’t see Rogue One or Solo, but from what I’ve heard, there was a story worth telling in the former, but not the latter. People don’t always support movies that tell stories worth telling over movies that don’t, but it’s an important characteristic nonetheless. I get the impression that the MCU’s phase three has been largely viewed as a series of movies that look good, and which you have to see all of to get the whole story. But none of them outside of Guardians 1 has been an individual story worth telling. Oddly enough, I think DC’s universe has featured more stories worth telling, even if they didn’t do a good job telling all of them.Report

I should add that I’m currently watching Star Trek: Enterprise, and if there ever was a series that’s workmanlike, a show that legitimately filmed their episodes and showed them…that’s about all I can compliment the show for. And as for the last Star Trek movie, the lack of direction for the franchise was an actual plot point.Report

Solo’s problem was that they needed to make Han too heroic and couldn’t really portray him as the scoundrel he was supposed to be before the original trilogy. Everybody likes Han Solo and even though most Star Wars fans know he started off as a cynical thief out only for himself and Chewbaca, nobody really wants to see that sort of character in a good vs. evil Star Wars movie. What Han Solo was supposed to be really conflicts with the light social justice liberalism of the new films. The movie was suppose to be about how Han Solo got cynical but they really couldn’t go that dark because of the limitations placed on it for being something parents can bring their kiddies to.Report

Solo’s bigger problem was that Disney thought Star Wars was Marvel (ie. an IP that could have multiple films a year) when it wasn’t.

If Solo is released in December of last year instead of May, it probably doesn’t do Rogue One numbers because it wasn’t a great movie, but it also probably does better than it did this past summer.Report

He defines 15 key beats, and even lays out how much time should ideally be spent on each beat. I watched Star Wars episode VII with this in mind, and Disney hit all the break points within about 30 seconds of the cut-and-paste recommendations.

So, they followed a Hollywood guide on “how to write a blockbuster!” to the letter. Talk about a lack of creativity… It’s certainly a safe call in the board room, or to investors, but so is noting that “Nobody ever got fired for buying IBM.”

1. I’m bigger ups on Star Wars and Star Trek than the OP; much more down on DC and starting to become weary of MCU. With that said, of course as long as the loud, bright, and sexy spectacles continue to play in theaters, they’ll continue to be made.

2. Star Wars itself begins its existence as a film student’s engagement with learning the archetypes in the Hero’s Journey, and embodies them so well that they become the way this concept is taught. Note that the Hero’s Journey is also easy to dovetail with a resolution of the Oedipal Complex. (The actual thing — reconciling oneself to privation and delayed gratification — not what the supertext of it describes.) So of course Star Wars is about archetypes. We oughtn’t be surprised that the new movies intentionally use them the way the old ones did — and the prequels fell flat to the extent that they failed to deploy archetypes effectively.

3. I liked how Rian Johnson dealt with all of this in Episode VIII. And I hope that vision of a democratized Force, where anyone might happen to have ability and subtle unseen forces guide them towards their destiny, persists into the next permutation of this universe after Episode IX. I don’t want the Old Republic, I want the forces of individualism and freedom and heroism clashing with monolithic worship of strength for its own sake. In graphically compelling costumes and using visually-arresting lightsabers. With better dialogue than Lucas writes on his own.Report

The trouble with the hero’s journey is that it is quite anti-technology and anti-democratic. Only the hero matters, usually because of his blood line. Almost everyone else is a nameless spear carrier whose individual actions are largely meaningless.

Lucas baked that in at the start by following the basic recipe that’s been used to justify countless tyrannical regimes and despotic dictatorships. The great leader is the great leader because it was his destiny. He rules by divine right because of his breeding or because of his crushing victory over the forces of evil.

Of course sometimes a ruler turns evil, but the only ones who can overthrow him are …wait for it… his children.

Science fiction was a new type of story where an ordinary person, through dint of ingenuity, could toss all that aside by inventing totally new ways to solve problems, or just use a nifty tool they ordered from Amazon.

Trying to shoehorn an ancient story type into a technological future is a difficult fit.Report

Religious Institutions. Religious institutions may resume services subject to the following conditions, which apply to churches, synagogues, temples, mosques, interfaith centers, and any other space, including rented space, where religious or faith gatherings are held: 1. Indoor religious gatherings are limited to no more than ten people. 2. Outdoor religious gatherings of up to 250 people are allowed. Outdoor services may be held on any outdoor space the religious institution owns, rents, or reserves for use. 3. All attendees at either indoor or outdoor services must maintain appropriate social distancing of six feet and wear face masks or facial coverings at all times. 4. There shall be no consumption of food or beverage of any kind before, during, or after religious services, including food or beverage that would typically be consumed as part of a religious service. 5. Collection plates or receptacles may not be passed to or between attendees. 6. There should be no hand shaking or other physical contact between congregants before, during, or after religious services. Attendees shall not congregate with other attendees on the property where religious services are being held before or after services. Family members or those who live in the same household or who attend a service together in the same vehicle may be closer than six feet apart but shall remain at least six feet apart from any other persons or family groups. 7. Singing is permitted, but not recommended. If singing takes place, only the choir or religious leaders may sing. Any person singing without a mask or facial covering must maintain a 12-foot distance from other persons, including religious leaders, other singers, or the congregation. 8. Outdoor or drive-in services may be conducted with attendees remaining in their vehicles. If utilizing parking lots for either holding for religious services or for parking for services held elsewhere on the premises, religious institutions shall ensure there is adequate parking available. 9. All high touch areas, (including benches, chairs, etc.) must be cleaned and decontaminated after every service. 10. Religious institutions are encouraged to follow the guidelines issued by Governor Hogan.

“There shall be no consumption of food or beverage of any kind before, during, or after religious services, including food or beverage that would typically be consumed as part of a religious service,” the order says in a section delineating norms and restrictions on religious services.

The consumption of the consecrated species at Mass, at least by the celebrant, is an integral part of the Eucharistic rite. Rules prohibiting even the celebrating priest from receiving the Eucharist would ban the licit celebration of Mass by any priest.

CNA asked the Howard County public affairs office to comment on how the rule aligns with First Amendment religious freedom and free exercise rights.

Howard County spokesman Scott Peterson told CNA in a statement that "Howard County has not fully implemented Phase 1 of Reopening. We continue to do an incremental rollout based on health and safety guidelines, analysis of data and metrics specific to Howard County and in consultation with our local Health Department."

"With this said," Peterson added, "we continue to get stakeholder feedback in order to fully reopen to Phase 1."

The executive order also limits attendance at indoor worship spaces to 10 people or fewer, limits outdoor services to 250 socially-distanced people wearing masks, forbids the passing of collection plates, and bans handshakes and physical contact between worshippers.

In contrast to the 10-person limit for churches, establishments listed in the order that do not host religious services are permitted to operate at 50% capacity.

In the early days of the Coronavirus epidemic, there were hopes that the disease could be treated with a compound called hydroxychloroquine (HCQ). HCQ is a long-established inexpensive medicine that is widely used to treat malaria. It also has uses for treating rheumatoid arthritis and lupus. There had been some indications that HCQ could treat SARS virus infections by attacking the spike proteins that coronaviruses use to latch onto cells and inject their genetic material. Initial small-scale studies of the drug on COVID-19 patients indicated some positive effect (in combination with the antibiotic azithromycin). President Trump, in March, promoted HCQ as a game-changer and is apparently taking it as a prophylaxis after potentially being exposed by White House staff.

Initial claims of the efficacy of this therapy were a perfect illustration of why we base decisions on scientific studies and not anecdotes. By late March, Twitter was filled with stories of "my cousin's mother's former roommate was on death's door and took this therapy and miraculously recovered". But such stories, even assuming they are true, mean nothing. With COVID-19, we know that seriously ill people reach an inflection point where they either recover or die. If they died while taking the HCQ regimen, we don't hear from them because...they died. And if they recover without taking it, we don't hear from them because...they didn't take it. Our simian brains have evolved to think that correlation is causation. But it isn't. If I sacrificed a goat in every COVID-19 patient's room, some of them would recover just by chance. That doesn't mean we should start a massive holocaust of caprines.

However, even putting aside anecdotes, there were good reasons to believe the HCQ regimen might work. And given the seriousness of this disease and the desperation of those trying to save lives, it's understandable that doctors began using it for critically ill patients and scientists began researching its efficacy.

Why Trump became fixated on it is equally understandable. Trump has been looking for a quick fix to this crisis since Day One. Denial failed. Closing off (some) travel to China failed. A vaccine is months if not years away. So HCQ offered him what he wanted -- a way to fix this problem without the hard work, tough choices and sacrifice of stay-at-home orders, masks, isolation and quarantine. So eager were they to adopt the quick fix, the Administration made plans to distribute millions of doses of this unproven drug in lieu of taking more concrete steps to address the crisis.[efn_note]Although the claim that Trump stands to profit off HCQ sales does not appear to hold much water.[/efn_note]

This is also why certain fringe corners of the internet became fixated on it. There has arisen a subset of the COVID Truthers that I'm calling HCQ Truthers: people who believe that HCQ isn't just something that may save some lives but is, in fact, a miracle cure that it's only being held back so that...well, take your pick. So that Democrats can wreck the economy. So that Bill Gates can inject us with tracking devices. So that we can clear off the Social Security rolls. And this isn't just a US phenomenon nor is it all about Trump. Overseas friends tell me that COVID trutherism in general and HCQ trutherism in particular have arisen all over the Western World.

It's no accident that the HCQ Truthers seem to share a great deal of headspace with the anti-Vaxxers. It fills the same needs

In both cases, the idea was started by flawed studies. The initial studies out of China and France that indicated HCQ worked were heavily criticized for methodological errors (although note that neither claimed it was a miracle cure). Since then, larger studies have shown no effect.

HCQ trutherism offers an explanation for tragedy beyond the random cruelty of nature. Just as anti-vaxxers don't want to believe that sometimes autism just happens, HCQ Truthers don't want to believe that sometimes nature just releases awful epidemics on us. It's more comforting, in some ways, to think that bad happenings are all part of a plan by shadowy forces.

There is, however, another crazy side that doesn't get as much attention because their crazy is a bit more subtle. These are the people who have decided that, since Trump is touting the HCQ treatment, it must not work. It can not work. It can not be allowed to work. There is an undisguised glee when studies show that HCQ does not work and a willingness to blame HCQ shortages on Trump and only Trump.[efn_note]Not to mention the odd fish tank cleaner poisoning that has nothing to do with him.[/efn_note]

In between the two camps are everyone else: scientists, doctors and ordinary folk who just want to know whether this thing works or not, politics and conspiracy theories be damned. Well, last week, we got a big indication that it does not. A massive study out of the Lancet concluded that the HCQ regimen has no measurable positive effect. In fact, death rates were higher for those who took the regimen, likely due to heart arrhythmias induced by the drug.

So is the debate over? Can we move on from HCQ? Not quite.

First of all, the study is a retrospective study, looking backward at nearly 100,000 cases over the last four months. That's a massive sample that allows one to correct for potential confounding factors. But it's not a double-blind trial, so there may be certain biases that can not be avoided. In response to the publication, a group doing a controlled study unblinded some of their data (that is, they let an independent group look up who was getting the actual HCQ and who was getting a placebo). It did not show enough of a safety concern to warrant ending the study.

It's also worth noting that because this is an unproven therapy, it is usually being used on only the sickest patients (the odd President of the United States aside). It's possible earlier use of the drug, when the body is not already at war with itself, could help.

With those caveats in mind, however, this study at least makes it clear that HCQ is not the miracle cure some fringe corners of the internet are pretending it is. And it should make doctors hesitant in giving to people who already have heart issues.

As you can imagine, this has only fed the twin camps of derangement. The truther arguments tend to fall into the usual holes that truther theories do:

"How can this be a four-month study when we only learned about COVID in January!" The HCQ protocol started being used almost immediately because of previous research on coronaviruses.

"How come all of the sudden this safe medicine that people use all the time is dangerous?!" The side effects of HCQ have been well known for years and have always required consideration and management. They may be showing up more strongly here because it is being given to patients whose bodies are already under extreme stress. Also, azithromycin may amplify some of those side effects.

"They just hate Trump." Not everything is about Donald Trump. If it turned out that kissing Donald Trump's giant orange backside cured COVID, scientists would be the first ones telling people to line up and use chapstick.

The other camp's response has ranged from undisguised glee -- that is, joy at the idea that we won't be saving lives cheaply -- to bizarre claims that Trump should be charged with crimes for touting this unproven therapy.

(A perfect illustration of the dementia: former FDA Head Scott Gottlieb -- who has been a Godsend for objective analysis during the pandemic -- tweeted out the results of the RECOVERY unblinding yesterday morning and noted that it showed no increased safety risk. He was immediately dogpiled by one side insisting he was trying to conceal the miracle cure of HCQ and the other insisting he is a Trumpist doing the Orange Man's dirty work.)

In the end, the lunatics do not matter. Whether HCQ works or not, whether it is used or not, will be mostly determined by doctors and will mostly be based on the evidence we have in front of us. If HCQ fails -- and it's not looking good -- my only response will be massive disappointment. Had HCQ worked, it would have been a gift from the heavens. It is a well-known, well-studied drug that can be manufactured cheaply in bulk. Had it worked, we could have saved thousands of lives, prevented hundreds of thousands of long-term injuries and saved trillions of dollars. That it doesn't appear to work -- certainly not miraculously -- is not entirely unexpected but is also a tragedy.

{C1} The Christian Science Monitor looks at 1918 and how sports handled that pandemic, and the role it played in giving rise to college football.

"That's really what started the big boom of college football in the 1920s," said Jeremy Swick, historian at the College Football Hall of Fame. "People were ready. They were back from war. They wanted to play football again. There weren't as many restrictions about going out. You could enroll back in school pretty easily. You see a great level of talent come back into the atmosphere. There's new money. It started to get to the roar of the Roaring '20s and that's when you see the stadiums arm race. Who can build the biggest and baddest stadium?"

{C2} During times of rapid change, social science is supposed to be able to help lead the way or at least decipher what is going on. Or maybe not...

But while Willer, Van Bavel, and their colleagues were putting together their paper, another team of researchers put together their own, entirely opposite, call to arms: a plea, in the face of an avalanche of behavioral science research on COVID-19, for psychology researchers to have some humility. This paper—currently published online in draft format and seeding avid debates on social media—argues that much of psychological research is nowhere near the point of being ready to help in a crisis. Instead, it sketches out an “evidence readiness” framework to help people determine when the field will be.

{C3} There is a related story about AI - which is predisposed towards tracking slow change over time - is having trouble keeping up.

{C4} The Covid-19 does not bode well for higher education is not news. They may have a lot of difficulty opening up (and maybe shouldn't). An added wrinkle is kids taking a gap year, which is potentially a problem because those most able to pay may be least likely to attend.

{C5} People who can see the faults with abstinence only education fail to see how that logic (We shouldn't give guidance to people doing things we would rather they not do in the first place). Emily Oster argues that the extreme message of public health advocates to Just Stay Home is counterproductive.

When people are advised that one very difficult behavior is safe, and (implicitly or not) that everything else is risky, they may crack under the pressure, or throw up their hands. That is, if people think all activities (other than staying home) are equally risky, they figure they might as well do those that are more fun. If taking a walk at a six-foot distance from a friend puts me at very high risk, why not just have that friend and a bunch of others over for a barbecue? It’s more fun. This is an exaggeration, of course, but different activities carry very different risks, and conscientious civic leaders should actively help people choose among them.

{C6} A look at what canceling the football season will do to the little guys - non-power schools. Ironically, they may sustain less damage due to fewer financial obligations relying on the money that won't be coming in. Be that as it may, Fordham has disestablished its baseball program.

{C7} Bans on evictions and rental spikes could have the main effect of simply pushing out small investors, rather than protecting renters. In a more good-faith economy this would be less of an issue because landlords would work with tenants. Which some are, though I don't have too much faith about it being widespread.

{C8} Three cheers for Nick Saban. Football coaches are cultural leaders of a sort. One is about to become a senator in Alabama, even. What they do matters.

The American college experience for better or for worse revolves around the residency factor. We have turned college into a relatively safe place for young adults to the test the limits of freedom without suffering too many consequences. Better to miss a day of classes because you drank too much than to miss a day of an apprenticeship or job and get fired. College was cut short this semester because of COVID and colleges are freaking out about whether they can open up dorms in the fall. The dorms are big money makers and it is hard to justify huge tuition bucks for zoom lectures even for elite universities. Maybe especially for them. California State University announced that Fall 2020 is going to be largely online. My undergrad alma mater sent out an e-mail blast announcing their plan to reopen in the fall with "mostly" in person classes. The President admitted that the plan was a work in progress but it strikes me as a combination of common sense and extreme wishful thinking. The plan may include:

1. Staggered drop-off days to limit density as we return.

This sounds reasonable but only in a temporary way because eventually everyone will be back on campus, living in dorm rooms together, needing to use communal bathrooms and showers.

2. Students would be tested for COVID-19 on campus at least twice in the first 14 days.

There is nothing wrong with this as long as the testing is available. Our capacity for testing so far in this country has not been great.

3. Anyone experiencing symptoms would be tested immediately. Students who test positive would be cared for in a separate dormitory area where food would be brought to the room and where the student could still access classes remotely.

Nothing wrong here. Outbreaks of certain diseases are not unknown in the college setting. During my senior year, there was an outbreak of a rather nasty strain of gastroenteritis. Other universities have experienced meningitis outbreaks.

4. All students would take their temperature and report symptoms daily.

This one is also reasonable but is going to involve spying on students and coming up with a punishment mechanism. How will they make sure students are not lying?

5. We would also require that socializing be kept to a minimum in the beginning, with proper PPE (masks) and social distancing. As time went on, we would seek to open up more, and students could socialize and eat together in small groups.

I have no idea how they tend for this to happen and it sets of all my lawyer bells for carefully crafted language that attempts to answer a concern or question but also admits "we got nothing." Maybe today's students are more somber and sincere but you are going to have around 500 eighteen year olds who are away from their parents for the first time and another 1500 nineteen to twenty-one year olds who had their semester rudely interrupted and might now be reunited with boyfriends and girlfriends. Are they going to assign eating times for the dining hall and put up solo eating cubicles that get wiped down and disinfected after each use? Assign times to use laundry facilities in each dorm? Cancel the clubs? Cancel performances by the theatre, dance, and music departments?

I am sympathetic to my alma I love it but and realize that a lot of colleges and universities would take a real hit financially without residency. This includes universities with reasonable to very large endowments. Only the ones with hedge fund size endowments would not suffer but the last part of the plain sounds not fully thought out yet even if my college's current President admitted: "Life on campus will not look the same as it did pre-pandemic" The only way i see number 5 working is if requiring is read as "requiring."

Seems that the theory that Covid-19 can be spread by asymptomatic people has very shaky evidence in support of it. Turns out the case this assumption was made from was based on a single woman who infected 4 others. Researchers talked to the 4 patients, and they all said the patient 0 did not appear ill, but they could not speak to patient 0 at the time.

So they finally got to talk to her, and she said she was feeling ill, but powered through with the aid of modern pharmaceuticals.

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Today we couldn’t be happier to announce that Vox Media and New York Media are merging to create the leading independent modern media company. Our combined business will be called Vox Media and will serve hundreds of millions of audience members wherever they prefer to enjoy our work.

In a nation in turmoil, it's nice to have even a small bit of good news:

Representative Steve King of Iowa, the nine-term Republican with a history of racist comments who only recently became a party pariah, lost his bid for renomination early Wednesday, one of the biggest defeats of the 2020 primary season in any state.

In a five-way primary, Mr. King was defeated by Randy Feenstra, a state senator, who had the backing of mainstream state and national Republicans who found Mr. King an embarrassment and, crucially, a threat to a safe Republican seat if he were on the ballot in November.

The defeat was most likely the final political blow to one of the nation’s most divisive elected officials, whose insults of undocumented immigrants foretold the messaging of President Trump, and whose flirtations with extremism led him far from rural Iowa, to meetings with anti-Muslim crusaders in Europe and an endorsement of a Toronto mayoral candidate with neo-Nazi ties.

King, you may remember, was stripped of his committee assignments last year when he defended white supremacism. Two years ago, he almost lost his Congressional seat in the general. That is, a seat that Republicans have held since 1986, usually win by double digits and a district Trump carried by a whopping 27 points almost came within a point or two of voting in a Democrat. That's how repulsive King had gotten.

Good riddance to bad rubbish. Enjoy retirement, Congressman. Oops. Sorry. In January, it will be former Congressman.

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From the Daily Mail: Deadliest city in America plans to disband its entire police force and fire 270 cops to deal with budget crunch

The deadliest city in America is disbanding its entire police force and firing 270 cops in an effort to deal with a massive budget crunch.

...

The police union says the force, which will not be unionized, is simply a union-busting move that is meant to get out of contracts with current employees. Any city officers that are hired to the county force will lose the benefits they had on the unionized force.

Oak Park police say they are investigating “suspicious circumstances” after two attorneys — including one who served as a hearing officer in several high-profile Chicago police misconduct cases — were found dead in their home in the western suburb Monday night.

Officers were called about 7:30 p.m. for a well-being check inside a home in the 500 block of Fair Oaks Avenue, near Chicago Avenue, and found the couple dead inside, Oak Park spokesman David Powers said in an emailed statement. Authorities later identified them as Thomas E. Johnson, 69, and Leslie Ann Jones, 67, husband and wife attorneys who worked in Chicago.

The preliminary report from an independent autopsy ordered by George Floyd's family says the 46 year old man's death was "caused by asphyxia due to neck and back compression that led to a lack of blood flow to the brain".

The independent examiners found that weight on the back, handcuffs and positioning were contributory factors because they impaired the ability of Floyd's diaphragm to function, according to the report.

Dr. Michael Baden and the University of Michigan Medical School's director of autopsy and forensic services, Dr. Allecia Wilson, handled the examination, according to family attorney Ben Crump.

Baden, who was New York's medical examiner in 1978 and 1979, had previously performed independent autopsies on Eric Garner, who was killed by a police officer in Staten Island, New York, in 2014 and Michael Brown, who was shot by officers in Ferguson, Missouri, that same year.

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Oddly, the video was dropped by an attorney friend the men, because he thought it would exonerate them. He assumed when people saw Aubrey turn and try to defend himself, everyone would see what they did: a dangerous animal needing to be put down.